


Permanently Black and Blue

by AriCakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Demons, Dream Sex, M/M, Pining, tie straightening obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriCakes/pseuds/AriCakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Castiel sees once he's touched back down within the Winchester's dingy motel room is Sam shaking Dean forcefully in a vain attempt to wake him. The muffled sound of ruffling feathers and large gust of wind draw Sam's attention away from his brother. Sam's eyes seem oddly lit in the dim light of the motel, panic and fear making it seem as though they're glowing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean fidgets while lounging in his bed, attempting to focus his eyes back onto the page in front of him with no luck. He knows that the research needs to get finished but he's just so fucking tired. He and Sam have been on the road with no break for too damn long and both of them looked a bit worse for the wear. Dean shifts his gaze from the paragraph he had been attempting, and failing, to decipher over to where Sam was sitting at the rickety hotel table. 

Sam's typing intermittently at the keyboard, his eyes focused on the page in front of him, only glancing away every few minutes to jot a note down on the notebook next to him. Sam's knuckles are scabbed over, similarly to Dean's, as the vamp nest they had taken out in the last town wasn't as small as they had anticipated. His eyes have bags under them from staying up late the night before trying to track the whatever the hell it was away from its last feast. Even   
Sam's hair seems a little less shiny than normal, which makes Dean snort under his breath.

"You know, Dean, if you aren't going to help me finish this research, you might as well go get us some food," Sam smirks, making Dean scramble to look like he was actually reading. Sam chuckles at that, not a full-out laugh like he would have given in years past, just flash of teeth and a hint of a smile. Dean wishes he could bring those laughs back, the regret of forcing this unhappiness on his brother thrumming in the back of his head as he grins back at Sam.

"Yeah, alright," Dean replies eventually, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off of the sagging bed, "been sitting here for hours anyway, I need some new scenery." He grabs Ruby's demon-killing knife from his side table and double checking to make sure his 1911 is loaded and tucked safely into the holster in the small of his back before grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door. "I'll be back in a few!" Dean calls over his shoulder and Sam smiles and turns back to his computer.

The Impala sits underneath the streetlight, her rims a little muddy but overall just as fabulous as always. Dean grins as he slides behind the wheel, debating whether to go to the nearest diner (it had looked more dingy than normal) or to drive a couple extra miles to go to the nicer looking one they had passed earlier. While pondering, Dean starts up the Impala, letting her warm up in the cold winter air. It's definitely colder than normal this year, but Dean doesn't know whether to attribute that to climate change or the shit that he and Sam are dealing with around here. Dean shakes his head and pushes the meat of his palms into his eyes until he can see stars. Come on, man, he says to himself, sighing deeply, focus.

Cas chooses that moment (of course) to pop into being in the passenger's seat. "Hello, Dean," he murmurs, the streetlight causing his eyes to look nearly ice blue as he stares at Dean.

Dean jumps, nearly hitting his head on his headrest, before turning to glare at the scruffy angel. "Seriously, man," Dean growls, his eyes flicking over Cas's face and clothes before looking back up into his eyes, "how many times are we gonna have to go over this? You can't just pop in like that, it freaks out us mere mortals." 

The corner of Cas's mouth tips up in a tiny smile at that, and he looks down at his hands folded in his lap. "I apologize, Dean. I will try to be less sudden when I "pop in"," he murmurs.

Dean shakes his head and goes to start up his baby. "Well, if you're staying, I got to go pick up some grub for Sam an me."

Cas nods and settles in, turning to stare out the front windshield. Dean pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards where he remembers the less sketchy of the two diners being. Every so often Dean glances over at Cas, mentally cataloguing the differences from the last time they were able to see one another. Cas looks just as unflappable as always, his hair windblown and his suit a bit rumpled and disheveled. Dean's eyes unwittingly zoom in on Cas's tie, pulled loosely around his neck and backward. Dean's fingers itch to fix it, but he pushes the thought from his mind before turning back towards the road.

"So, man, what's goin on?" inquires Dean, "What brought you down here to slum it with Sam an me?" Cas frowns at the self-deprecating remark and turns to look at Dean, his fingers tightening in his lap.

"I am not "slumming it", as you say," Cas responds, the annoyance from Dean's offhand remark bleeding into his voice, "You know that most of the time I would rather be here with you two. When I have a break, such as now, I prefer to be in your company."

A blush spreads over Dean's cheeks as he glares daggers through the windshield and into the road ahead of them. The silence between them expands until Dean pushes the blush off his face and steadies his voice, "Well thanks, man. That's nice of ya. Sam and I enjoy having you around." Cas smiles at his response and watches the terrain pass by through the passenger side window while fiddling with the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

The movement of Cas's hand pulls Dean's attention away from the road and he does a double take when he sees Cas's fingers curl around the deep blue tie. The itching-burning feeling in Dean's fingers from earlier returns tenfold and he has to grip the steering wheel until his knuckles blanch to keep from reaching over and pulling Cas's tie back to the proper position. Dean rips his eyes away from Cas and back to the road, resolutely ignoring the tingling of constricted blood vessels in his fingers.

Cas watches Dean out of the corner of his eyes. Not staring like he used to because "all that staring is just creepy, man". He wonders what is making Dean so tense, his fingers look as though they could break the steering wheel. As much as he wants to know, Cas will never ask because he knows Dean, knows the look on his face, and knows he would never answer, not truthfully at least. 

It takes them about ten minutes to get to the diner and by then the silence in the car is nearly palpable even if it isn't the awkward type of silence. They pull into the small parking lot and Dean grabs a spot as close to the door as possible, but makes sure the people next to him parked properly (don't want any dings or scratches on Baby). Cas has already popped back outside the car when Dean slams his door and they both head inside. 

Dean forces his eyes not to stray to the scrap of fabric around the angel's neck, but he can still see the slight swinging of it in his periphery. Before heading up to the bar to order, Dean grabs Cas's shoulder. "I know you don't have to eat, but you want anything?" Dean asks, grabbing a menu from an empty table and pushing it into Cas's hands. Cas considers turning Dean down, but when he looks at Dean he can't find the will to say no. Instead he flips open the menu and takes a look.

While Cas is distracted, trying to find something to order, Dean lets his eyes stray below the angel's shoulders. The dark blue of Cas's tie contrasts starkly with the white cotton of his dress shirt. The tie isn't completely backwards, Dean observes. The Winsor knot has moved around and the broader section is turned sideways. The first section of the tie rests sideways on Cas's chest while the rest lies completely backwards, showing the small white tag and tip lining, which is a couple shades lighter than the deep blue of the front. Dean is focused on staring at the mussed tie but not touching that he forgets to pull his eyes away before Cas decides what he'd like to order.

Cas looks up from the menu having decided to go with a burger and fries (he remembers Famine and that burgers were fairly satisfying until he had begun his 408th) and notices Dean's intense staring contest with his chest. Dean must not have realized quite how fiercely he was staring because not only did he not notice Cas looking up from the page, but his hands were clenched by his side again, his knuckles white enough that Cas could see some small scars marking the skin.

"Dean?" Cas questions in an attempt to pull Dean's attention from his thoughts. Dean startles, bumping back against the wall and looks up towards Cas. 

"Yeah, you ready?" Dean asks a couple seconds later once he pulls his thoughts away from Cas's fucking tie.   
Cas nods, "Yes. I would like to try a cheeseburger and fries." Dean takes the menu and puts it away, nodding, then heads up towards the bar to catch the server's attention. Still puzzled by Dean's behavior, Cas follows. What was causing Dean to act so oddly? Cas positions himself so he can see Dean's face while he orders, smiling and flirting a little with the waitress. He doesn't seem angry; was he still upset that Cas has appeared so suddenly? Cas decided to apologize again once the two of them were back in the car.

Dean is running on autopilot, ordering a double bacon cheeseburger for himself along with Cas's order and a Caesar salad with grilled chicken for Sam with a few flirtatious words thrown in. He notices Cas sliding up next to him and glancing at his face in the corner of his eye. Dean resolutely looks away and back at the cute waitress in front of him before he catches a glimpse of that infuriating ocean blue fabric. Even still, just the thought of Cas's tie made his fingers tighten and itch ever so slightly. Dean pushes the thoughts of pushing Cas against the wall and fixing that fucking tie out of his mind, forcing himself to refocus on paying for their food.

It takes about ten to twelve minutes to cook up their meal, so Dean and Cas sit up at the bar and make some small talk. Dean tells Cas about the vamps that he and Sam took out a few days ago, and Cas tells Dean about the different missions Heaven has been sending him on lately. Cas asks what Dean and Sam are hunting around here, and when Dean describes the attacks Cas looks intrigued. "You say it's eating the entire family in just one night?"  
"I mean, not everything, just the skin," Dean says, keeping quiet so that the waitress doesn't hear, "Sam and I've been researching all day trying to figure out what it is."

"Have you considered a Rakshasa?" asks Cas, absentmindedly fiddling with the end of his tie. Dean has to clench his hands to keep from batting Cas's away.

"No, but that's a good idea. Lemme text Sam," Dean distracts his hands with pulling out his phone and tapping out a quick message, but that doesn't mean Cas doesn't notice the tightness of his hands.

"Alright boys, here you go," chirps the waitress, setting a couple plastic bags full of food down in front of them, "Come around again sometime!" She winks quickly and walks away to take the order of a new customer. Cas grabs the bags off the counter and follows Dean back out to the car, watching as Dean shoves his phone back in his pocket and unlocks the Impala. Cas places the bags behind his seat, taking care so that they won't tip over during the trip, and actually climbs into the car without using his "angel mojo" as Dean calls it.

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise but doesn't make fun, maybe all those talks about how mojo-ing around scares the shit out of people were actually soaking in. Dean couldn't complain about that, not after bitching about it every time it happened. Once he's slid into the driver's seat and started his baby up, they peel out of the parking lot and head back towards the motel.

It's a quiet drive, at least for the first few minutes, before Dean catches a bit of blue in the corner of his eye, and drums his fingers on the steering wheel as a distraction. Cas frowns and looks at Dean, attempting to judge his mood. "Dean, are you still angry at me from earlier?" asks Cas, the crease between his eyebrows deepening, "For "poofing" in unannounced?"

Dean turns to Cas with a look of surprise, before turning his eyes back to the road "No, man! Why would you think that?"

"Because every time you look at me, you get tense. Your fingers tighten." Cas replies, confusion evident in his voice.

"Oh, dude," Dean says, a blush dusting over his cheeks, "That is totally not cause of you, man."

"No? What is the cause then Dean? Is something upsetting you?"

"Nothing, man, I guess I'm just more tired than I thought."

Cas, as much as humanity was a new thing for him, could tell when someone was lying, but he didn't push. Dean would just get defensive and they would end up in a disagreement. Instead, Castiel stays quiet as Dean leans forward and turns up the radio.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is even more conflicted than before and Cas can't figure out how to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got through this chapter with the lovely help of SEVYSLYTHERIN who is a Saint and even more awesome than pie.

Cas ends up being able to stay with Dean and Sam for longer than he's normally able to, and Dean hopes that means things in Heaven have calmed down a bit. To be completely honest, Dean has been enjoying the heck out of their time together. He loves these times, fighting with his brother on one side and his best friend on his other. Working together as a team they had not only been able to gank the monster from the original town (which did turn out to be a Rakshasa, thank fuck for Cas's crazy amount of knowledge) but they were also able to take out a pair of werewolves that had been attacking campers in a nearby forest town. No one could say that Team Free Will didn't get shit done.

Sam is sitting in the passenger seat tapping away at his phone trying to find some way to identify their next monster of the week while Dean is attempting to give Castiel some instruction on good musical taste. The impromptu lesson means that Born to Be Wild is blasting from the radio and Dean is singing along at the top of his lungs. Cas watches him from the back seat, a large smile plastered onto his face and Dean sends an exaggerated wink at Cas when he catches his eye in the rearview mirror. Cas smiles widely back at him, and a warmth pools in the angel's stomach the way it does every time he sees a real smile from Dean. It's not an uncomfortable feeling, but it makes him a little lightheaded and his chest a bit tight, so Cas pushes it from his mind, focusing back on Dean's off-pitch belting of the intro of Molly Hatchet's Flirtin' with Disaster.

The wind is blowing in through Dean's half open window and his favorite music is cranked loud on the radio, and Dean is feeling happier than he has in months, probably since before he and Cas got shoved into Purgatory. His eyes stray from the road once again to glance at Cas's bright blue eyes and wide, open smile, and Dean watch as Cas absentmindedly fiddles with the tie hanging loosely around his neck. Dean pulls his gaze from the mirror and back to the road while attempting to push the variety of maybe not so innocent thoughts (pushing Cas against a wall, the Impala, wrapping that fucking tie around his fingers, through his fist) from his mind.

Dean sighs mentally and resists rubbing his hand over his eyes; for all that the past week had been great, that fucking tie had been the one thing bothering Dean. Normally, he could ignore the deep blue silk draped around Cas's neck, but it seems that with Cas's extensive interaction with humanity had come a tendency for the angel to fidget, usually with his tie. And that would have been completely, totally fine if Dean could just quit obsessing over it, how it was crooked and backward, sitting awkwardly against Cas's sternum. He shouldn't think about grabbing and tugging that tie, straightening it and settling it back up against Cas's throat. He shouldn't think about maybe pulling it just a little tight around Cas's neck, about forcing his thigh between Cas's legs and pushing him into the cool metal of the Impala. He especially shouldn't think about breathing in Cas's obscene gasps, licking and biting at his lips, turning them a deep red before moving to Cas's neck. No, Dean shuts down that line of thought before he gets carried away, before he says something on accident while he's distracted. 

They finally arrive in town a couple hours later, Dean making the executive decision that they were getting lunch first before finding a place for the night. He pulled the Impala into the first decent looking diner they passed, thankful to finally get some food in him (he's a warrior and warriors need food damnit). They slide into a booth, Cas and Dean sharing so Sam can set up his computer and finish up the research to make sure they knew what they were talking about later at the Sheriff's office. Dean rubs his hands together while glancing over the menu, noticing to his delight that fresh apple pie is one of their specialties, and deciding what to order. He notices Cas sitting a little too close, his leg settled so near to Dean's that he can feel the warmth soaking in through his jeans. It makes Dean's stomach tighten and his hands shake slightly as he tries not to let the flush he feels on his neck crawl up to his cheeks. Thankfully, the waitress chooses that moment to come take their orders and give Dean's mind a break. 

Dean orders burgers for himself and Cas, plus two pieces of apple pie, as well as soda for himself and water for Cas (who doesn't like the taste of the additives in soda), before he even realizes what he's doing. When he glances across the table Sam is smirking at him and Dean ducks his head back down so no one can see his flushed cheeks. Cas gazes at Dean's downturned head while Sam places his order, wishing that Dean would just talk to him for once. Talk to him instead of keeping everything compressed inside of himself. Dean startles when Cas's fingers press into his leg, trying to offer some sort of comfort even if he has no idea why Dean is acting so oddly. 

Dean looks back up and smiles at Cas in an unsuccessful attempt to reassure the angel. Cas frowns but doesn't push, removing his hand and moving it back to run his fingers over the edge of his silk tie. Catching the movement in his peripheral, Dean attempts to distract himself by quizzing Sam over the case. Cas keeps silent, watching Dean and attempting to sort out the knot of feelings in his stomach. He wants to help Dean, get him to open up and explain his strange behavior, but approaching him head on will get him nowhere. He'll have to work at this a different sort of way, and this is what Cas thinks about for the rest of the meal and consequent ride to the hotel.


	3. Chapter 3

"NO! You know what? Fuck you, Cas, and your goddamned help! I'm not some child who needs you to save him every time he gets in a fucking bind!" Dean barks, his face taut as he pushes Sam away from his inspection of the wounds scattered across Dean's arms and shoulders. Sam backs away, knowing he doesn't want any part of this argument. He nods towards Cas, who answers in return with a wave of his hand. Sam takes this to mean 'go ahead and find another motel room for tonight' and silently slips out the door.

"Dean, you know that I would not have intervened if I had not sensed that your life was in immediate danger," Cas replies irritation and anger filtering into his normally calm voice and his set face rigid, stony, and closed-off, "I respect the fact that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but there are many times when you make reckless and irresponsible decisions that put your life at risk. I will not stand by and watch you sacrifice yourself when I have the ability to help."

Dean's head snaps up from where he's digging through his first aid kit, his eyes narrow dangerously as his gaze levels with Castiel's own furious eyes. "And, what, leave Sam on his own, Cas? You'd really put my life ahead of my brother's?" Dean grinds out, anger heaving itself higher within his chest, feeling as though it's pushing his wildly beating heart against his ribs with each breath.

Cas can feel his eyes crackling with restrained anger. How could Dean be this stupid? Sam and Castiel had taken care of the two higher-level demons that had separated them from Dean fairly quickly; Sam had been well prepared with his demon exorcism on his cell phone and Cas had been able to corner and smite the second in less than ten minutes. Dean, however, hadn't been so lucky. The other two demons: one upper echelon thug and the ringleader, Asmodeus, one of the most potent and of the Seven Princes of Hell – lust.

Dean had been on the top of his game, unfortunately for the demons, and had dispatched the brutish bodyguard without even breaking a sweat. Asmodeus had used Dean's distraction to his advantage, taking the chance to break into Dean's mind and set him into some sort of dreamstate, very much similar to a trance. Cas had felt the extreme burst of demonic energy from across the sprawling compound and, after double checking the demonic energies near Sam to ensure his safety, flown as quickly as possible to save Dean. Even with the speed that God had blessed him with Cas has still only narrowly been able to save him, as he had appeared just as Asmodeus had been reciting the end of his spell.

Cas drags himself out of his thoughts, cutting off his memories of Dean's nearly-cool body lying on the concrete surrounded by blood written sigils with his wrists sliced to the bone and various Enochian sigils carved in his upper chest. "Dean," growls Cas as overwhelming frustration, barely repressed rage, and crushing grief well in his chest, "Just because you give your life no value does not mean that the same is true for everyone. I know of many, including Sam and myself, who care for you deeply and would be devastated if they lost you. Next time you think of martyring yourself you would do well to remember that fact." After giving Dean, and Dean's poorly-hidden shock, one last fuming glare Cas takes wing and vanishes from Dean's view leaving only the sound of wind buffeted feathers.

***

Dean attempts to drag his eyes away from where Cas had been standing, his mind ringing with the words Cas had thrown at him. The barbs dig into Dean's mind and he can feel his thoughts starting to overwhelm him just as they had when Asmodeus had pulled him into dreamstate earlier. Dean fumbles with numb fingers for his phone, and watches helplessly as it slips from his grasp and to the floor before his eyes slide shut against the overwhelming lust tearing through his body and he falls back onto the gaudy bedspread.

Sam tries to scan through the various news outlets nearby, attempting to find a new case for the brothers and Castiel, but his mind is on the room 6 doors down and to the left. When Sam had silently removed himself from the room earlier he had been blown away by the sheer power that Cas had radiated. While Sam had never doubted that Dean could be both oblivious and suicidal, he had taken it to the next level with the last fight. Attempting to take on one of the Princes of Hell, especially that of the embodiment lust (the most difficult of the seven sins for Dean to ignore), was literally the epitome of martyrdom.

Sam had been livid, the most angry he'd been in ages, but he couldn't have even come close to the level of anger that had been rolling off of the angel. He'd been able feel it like heat waves crashing against his skin, just as he'd been able to smell ozone coalescing in the air, as though lightning was about to strike; and, in the figurative sense, the lightning had. Once they were back and safely ensconced in their room, Castiel had released the tight reigns he had on his anger and, unlike Sam, Dean seemed to disregard the power exuding from Cas. He had snarked back, same as always, as though he hadn't just nearly died. Sam wished that Dean would just man up and tell Cas what his problem was, instead of going his normal route of avoidance by toeing the line between reasonable risk and a death wish. Sam stares up at the peeling ceiling and lets out an annoyed huff; maybe Dean and Cas's fight would get Dean to actually talk to the angel.

***

" . . . I know of many, including Sam and myself, who care for you deeply and would be devastated if they lost you. Next time you think of martyring yourself you would do well to remember that fact." Cas finishes, a near replica of the scene from earlier. Instead of pulling the traditional disappearing act, though, Cas stands and stares angrily back at Dean, his hands coming up to adjust his tie from where it had been yanked during the fight while he waited for a response.

Dean's retort vanishes from his mind as he watches Cas's fingers slip over the dirty blue silk and pull the knot tight. The sight of Cas's tie snugging up against his dirt-splotched button-up, pressing lightly against the knob of his Adam's apple, instantly dries Dean's mouth and sets his fingers twitching. Before he has time to even think about what he's doing, Dean's pulled himself up, and grabbed a hold of Cas's tie, wrapping it tight around his fist. Dean continues to walk, pushing Cas with his body, until he has the angel pressed against the faded wallpaper. Cas looks confused, though the quick dilation of his eyes and shuddery indrawn breath do not pass Dean unnoticed.

Dean smirks a bit, pleased, when Cas's eyelids slip slightly closed as Dean presses further into Cas's personal space. Cas's hands settle on Dean's hips, so warm that Dean can feel every finger burning through his jeans. Dean yanks lightly on the tie as he situates his leg between Cas's thighs, earning himself a gruff "Dean!" in return. Looking up through his eyelashes, Dean and Cas's eyes meet and Dean can feel his hair start to rise with the feeling of electricity building around them.

If Dean hadn't been sure of Cas's thoughts about this before, he definitely was now. Cas's eyes have become caverns, the tiniest flash of blue around a huge void of hungry black. Dean catches a flicker of pink as Cas's tongue comes out to wet his perpetually chapped lips. The shine of saliva across Cas's lower lip makes Dean's cock twitch, a shot of lust burning down his spine. Cas clears his throat quietly, swallowing dryly before murmuring a scratchy, "Dean?" which pulls a rough, low groan from Dean's chest. Dean yanks Cas's tie tighter and attempts to crush their lips together (finally – fucking _finally_ after these past few weeks of pure fucking torture) before he feels a curl of magic in the air and everything changes.

***

Cas soars around Olympus Mons on the surface of Mars, his anger making his movements jerky and sharp. In his true form, Castiel has no mouth and so the snarling rant is kept thundering within his being, nearly a physical form in its strength. Rocks crack and tumble as Castiel lands heavily, gripping the reins of his emotions and schooling them back to a simmer. Castiel knows he should not have left Dean so quickly, especially when Cas has the time to properly heal up Dean's wounds, but his unbridled emotions would have caused greater harm if he had remained. Dean's flippant attitude had been nearly Cas's undoing, and Cas was glad that he had been able to withdraw himself in time, before his wrath had overcome him. Cas breathes out the true-form equivalent of a sigh, his wings shuttering slightly, at least now his anger was beginning to drain from him, leaving the angel feeling hollowed out and dull.

A sudden flash, followed by a burn of magic, pulls Cas's thoughts out from where they've been buried within himself. He can feel the sliver of his grace, the piece that bandaged Dean back into wholeness after being pulled from the Pit, the piece that lies within Dean's soul underneath the scorched, scarred palm print, he can feel it writhe against some a cloying magic that has dug its way into Dean's soul. Cas attempts to reach out into Dean's mind but meets nothing but a solid block, with no cracks Cas can slip through. Fear shudders through Cas, and he curses himself for leaving Dean defenseless and alone, for letting his frustration and fury get the best of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I KNOW THIS TOOK FOREVER AND IT STILL ISN'T FINISHED BUT UGH WRITING OKAY AND ALSO I NOW WORK EVERY DAY EXCEPT THE WEEKEND AS A MAID AND I'M ALWAYS TIRED SO I'M SORRY GUYS I'LL TRY AND FINISH IT SOON


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT BETAD CAUSE NO ONE LOVES ME SO yes hope you like it

The first thing Castiel sees once he's touched back down within the Winchester's dingy motel room is Sam shaking Dean forcefully in a vain attempt to wake him. The muffled sound of ruffling feathers and large gust of wind draw Sam's attention away from his brother. Sam's eyes seem oddly lit in the dim light of the motel, panic and fear making it seem as though they're glowing.

"Cas!" Sam exclaims, stumbling to his feet and pulling Castiel closer to Dean's overheated body, "I came to make sure you two were okay after your fight, but when I got here Dean looked like this!"

The acrid stench of sweat is overwhelming, strong enough that, if Cas was human, his eyes would be watering viciously. Castiel glances back towards Sam as he steps closer to the bedside. Sam looks as terrified as Castiel has ever seen him, his eyes wide and darting between his brother and the angel.

Cas pulls his attention away from Sam's fearful stare and focuses back on Dean, who has completely sweat through all his clothes, the comforter, and the sheets. Nearly all of Dean's muscles are stretched taut; his head is thrown back, exposing his flushed neck, and his fingers clenched around the bed linens, white as bone. Cas steps forward and sits down next to Dean, who shows no signs of noticing.

"I have no doubt that this is the work of Asmodeus. Though he was unable to finish his spell, some part of it must have latched on to Dean, as his blood was part of the ritual. Thankfully, because of Asmodeus' death, the spell should be much easier to break once I am able to discern the catalyst or purpose of the spell." Castiel rips his eyes away from Dean and looks back up at Sam, "I'll need you to watch the both of us while I delve into Dean's consciousness. We'll both be vulnerable and I do not want to risk any further harm to Dean."

The lost look in Sam's eyes is pushed back and replaced with determination and anger as he gives Cas a nod before grabbing the Colt and demon knife to prepare for watch. Cas nods sharply back at him, glad that his instincts were correct; having orders helps to keep Sam grounded and level-headed during times of stress. Cas takes an un-needed breath and settles himself on the bed, his back against the headboard, but still close enough to Dean so that he can place his palm against his furnace-hot forehead.

Cas can feel the acidic burn of magic against his grace as he pushes his way into Dean's mind. It drags against his being, each scalpel-sharp slide causes his stomach to shudder forcefully. Cas only has a moment to regain his equilibrium before he's hit by the sheer _strength_ of Dean's lust. He can feel it flooding through him, spiking his heart rate, and causing the clothes on his mental body to stick with sweat while his eyes dilate.

 _Lust, of course. I should have known,_ Cas thinks to himself as he shudders out a breath, attempting to regain some portion of control over himself. The impermeable, overwhelming power of both Dean's emotion and the demon's magic are working against Castiel. Only the knowledge that Dean is in danger, that he could die, gives Cas the tenacity to push through the urges and emotion surging through his gut and take note of his surroundings.

If Cas hadn't known any better, he would mistake the shabby motel as the one he had just left, but instead of the curtains being a dusty green, they're instead a washed-out blue. The tile is less stained than the brother's current crash-spot, but the wallpaper here is peeling away from the walls along the ceiling, and the fridge sounds like it's one night away from breaking down for good. Cas is standing near the foot of the bed closest to the door when he hears a large thump rattle the door. He moves out of sight, standing against the wall divider between the kitchenette area and the bedroom and pulls his angel blade from his sleeve.

Suddenly, the door is pushes open forcefully, slamming against the fridge and leaving a knob sized dent in the front. Heavy panting, interspersed with bitten-off curses and low growls, fill Cas' ears before he hears the door slamming shut and a body being thrown against it, causing the door to shake. Cas glimpses around his cover and stops short at the sight in front of him.

Dean is pushes an (Imagined? Demonic?) version of Castiel back against the front door. His hands are buried in not-Cas' messy hair, and he grips it tightly while yanking occasionally. Not-Cas' lips look bruised and slick with spit, tinged pink as he gazes back at Dean from under his thick eyelashes. Dean's breath is heavy and his sweat causes the hair on his nape to curl and stick. Not-Cas grips to the lapel of Dean's coat and grinds his hips up against him, using his back on the door to give himself more force. Dean's other hand, fisted in not-Cas' mussed tie, doesn't even move as he pushes himself against not-Cas with a chest-aching groan. "You just can't ever get you tie fucking _right_ , can you, Cas?" he moans, pulling tightly on not-Cas' tie as he bites at his neck.

This pulls Castiel's brain back online, his gaping mouth closing with a snap as he straightens his posture. "Dean," he announces, putting the force of his grace behind the word. He can feel the flicker of recognition in the magic, the acknowledgement, and he notices the lights waver for a moment.

Dean tenses as though ice water has been thrown on him, back straightening and shoulders jerking defensively. Not-Cas is glares at him, his eyes flashing at Castiel over Dean's shoulder. His mouth is set in a straight line, jaw clenching, as Dean spins around into a defensive position, obviously ready to fight. This is almost enough to make Cas smile, the thought that, even drenched in a magical, all-encompassing lust, Dean still protects him. The heavy weight of not-Cas' gaze keeps his lips from twitching.

Castiel watches as recognition filters through Dean's gaze before it slides into confusion and suspicion. Dean attempts to move further from both Castiels, keeping his back close to the wall in defense. Not-Cas frowns and grabs onto Dean's jacket, lightning-fast. "Dean?" he questions, licking at his kiss-swollen lips, "Dean, what are you doing? You surely cannot believe that this imposter could be me?"

Dean's eyes fall back to not-Cas' lips as he talks, eyes glazing over as he licks over his own chapped lips. Castiel straightens, offended that this demon could even think to impersonate an Angel of the Lord, but ignores it as he addresses Dean. "Dean, please listen to me," Castiel says emphatically, catching Dean's eyes and holding their gaze, "Do you remember the demon, the Prince of Hell, we fought earlier tonight together?"

It takes a moment, but acknowledgement dawns in Dean's eyes before they harden in defiance. Dean looks back at where not-Cas is still gripping his jacket and makes an attempt to pull away. The leather creaks in not-Cas' fist and doesn't even begin to move. "Now, Dean, _sweetheart_ ," Not-Cas smiles, the awful yellow-filtered light of the room glinting off his teeth, making his smile razor-sharp and dangerous, "You can't leave now. We were in the middle of something."

The air rushes from Dean's lungs in a hard huff as he watches not-Cas' eyes filter to black.

***

Time stops for Castiel as he watches the demon pull Dean forward and grip him around the throat. Dean chokes out a cough, his lips already beginning to turn a pale blue. "Does the angel know what you think about, Winchester?" spits the demon, his void gaze turning from Dean's quickly blanching face towards Castiel. He smirks, teeth like razors, "Why do you think it was so easy to trick him, hm?"

The demon's sharp laugh knocks Cas out of his daze, and he grips his blade tightly as he surges towards the demon. Castiel is able to knock Dean from its grasp, but is pushed into the wall in retaliation, causing him to lose grip of his angel blade. The demon stalks towards Cas' slumped figure and grips his collar, lifting him and tossing him across the room and into one of the side tables. Castiel stumbles to his feet, eyes darting around for his blade. The demon comes from nowhere, punches landing on Cas' stomach and across his neck, causing him to choke. Taking its chance, the demon grabs a hold of Castiel once more before slamming him back against the wall.

There are spots dancing in Castiel's vision and his head slumps forward against his chest. The demon knocks him to the floor with one last punch to the side of the head. "Don't worry, angel. We'll take good care of the human for you," the demon purrs as he walks back towards Dean.

Castiel waits for him to turn before pulling himself to his feet and tackling the demon into the wall. He smirks down at the demon while pinning its hands behind its back. "Did you really believe that you could do what millions of demons in perdition could not?" Castiel growls as the lights flicker dangerously, casting shadows of his wings against the wall and causing his eyes to glow brightly with the power of his grace. Cas focuses his power and can feel the demon being torn apart in his hands. With one last scream from the demon and a blinding flash of grace, it's gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i have no beta so i hope this is alright

Castiel isn't really sure how being knocked out in your own subconscious works, but Dean's managed it. Now that Cas has taken care of the immediate threat, he focuses on moving Dean to one of the ratty dream-beds and pulls up a chair to watch over him. _Maybe it's just like being asleep_ , Cas considers, letting his mind wander as he settles himself more comfortably next to Dean.

Time passes, Castiel knows it does, but the hands on the clocks never twitch, and the glow of the sunset remains the same orange-red hue. Cas debates counting out the time on his own before discarding the thought, because who knows if the time within Dean's mind is even consistent with the passage of time in the outside world. Castiel finds himself so caught up in his mental debate between time-keeping techniques that he nearly misses the first fluttering movement of Dean's eyelids.

Castiel's breath catches sharply in his throat as he watches Dean grimace before letting out a low groan of pain. Dean grunts as he pushes his fingers through his hair and rubs roughly over his eyes, leaving them unopened. He pushes himself up so that he's sitting more-or-less comfortably, resting his elbows on his thighs and holding his face in his palms for a few moments. Castiel watches silently, mostly satisfied that Dean is unharmed after his odd mental black out. He even lets a faint smirk cross his face when Dean nearly jumps out of his skin after finally opening his eyes and noticing the Angel sitting next to him.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel says quietly, a relieved smile playing around his lips, "I'm glad you're finally awake. I'm unsure how much time has actually passed, and I'm sure your brother is more than ready for us to regain consciousness."  
Cas frowns as the look of wide-eyed terror remains on Dean's face. His eyes are as large as dinner-plates, his body taught as a guitar string. This is the closest to prey as Castiel has ever seen either of the Winchesters, and the unusual behavior perplexes him, leaving him unsure of what to do.

The dense silence that's fallen over the two men begins to force its way under Castiel's skin, causing it to tense and prickle uncomfortably. Castiel's eyes flit away from Dean's unmoving gaze as his hands unconsciously brush across his wrinkled suit, pressing his mussed tie down against his sternum. A sharp gasp, perhaps less a gasp than an intake of breath, causes Cas' eyes to snap back, just barely catching a glimpse of a flash of pink tongue over full lips, the minute dilation of pupils, like a gaping void rimmed with a vibrant flash of green.

Dean's gaze has softened from its original frightened stare into a look Castiel has only ever seen Dean direct towards the women invading his space at bars, never at Castiel himself. The intensity overwhelms Castiel, mixing with the heavy silence and awkward atmosphere and causing Cas' stomach to churn uncomfortably as his heart beats in a nervous clamor against his chest. He can feel a flush creeping up his cheeks as his eyes dart around the room nervously, a vague feeling stifling the breath in his chest. It feels as though they're on the brink of something, teetering between something comfortable and straightforward and something unexplored and wild – something that could easily tear the both of them to shreds in its ferocity, whispers the nagging voice in the back of Castiel's mind.

  
Castiel jumps when he feels rough fingertips brush across the hand he's clenched in the worn silk of his tie. He blinks, breaking his gaze from the splotchy comforter where it had landed while his brain derailed, and looks up to where Dean is staring back at him oddly. "Cas?" Dean rumbles, his voice sharp and cutting, though still warm, like razors and whiskey. His eyes narrow, glinting with suspicion, "It's really you this time, right? No more shitty demon magic?"

Cas nods jerkily, a flush dusts his cheeks as clears his throat. Every movement, every thought, every action, feels electrified in this moment and Cas' nerves are overwhelmed, a tingling itch crawling over his skin. There's a weight to the air that adds to every touch, every glance, every _breath_. The thin skin on the back of Castiel's hand is prickling from where Dean had brushed his fingers against it. Castiel scratches it in a vain attempt to calm the restless nerves while simultaneously trying to pull his heart back down from the dead sprint it's become. He coughs dryly before glancing back to Dean's hungry stare, "I was able to dispel the demon, but we still seem to be stuck in your subconscious. I was hoping that once you were awake you might be able to disassociate us from your mind, somehow."

Dean nods vaguely, his attentions obviously elsewhere, not even listening to Castiel anymore. Dean's eyes - swollen pupils encased by the barest glint of green - have been drawn away from Cas' gaze once again and are now focusing in on the fingers Cas is nervously twisting around his tie. Castiel falters under the intense stare, a scorching heat building under his skin; he's never seen Dean this distracted before and it's throwing Castiel off, lending more power to the rolling boil of emotion that's building in his gut. Obviously Asmodeus' magic is still at work – Dean would never allow himself to be this inattentive otherwise, Castiel is sure - which is worrying since the spell should have dissipated once Castiel had smote the demon.

"Dean?" Castiel says worriedly, forcefully stilling his fingers with a frown, "Dean, I think you may still be bound in the spell. You are still showing symptoms of Asmodeus' lust magic."

It's a couple seconds before the words filter through the heavy film of _wantneedheat_ draped over Dean's mind. Sure, the drowning force of _take, own, use_ has ebbed, draining away with the demon's death, but the lust is still there (has always been there). Dean is no longer a slave to immense hunger the demon awoke from his subconscious, but he lacks the desire to force it back as he typically does.

Dean's fingers twitch as he draws his gaze from Castiel's porn-worthy hands – _and, jesus, since when has Dean had a fucking hand kink?_ – across the deep blue of the loosely-knotted tie around Cas' neck and up to meet Castiel's heavy stare. Dean's heavy-lidded gaze is fixed on Cas' as he pushes his fingers between Castiel's grip and the skin-warm silk of Cas' tie.

The electric graze of skin pulls a shiver from Cas, heat surging through his stomach and raising goosebumps across his skin while a flush creeps higher up his neck and settles across his cheekbones. Dean smirks slightly, just the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, as he watches Castiel stare down to where Dean's hand is curling around the tie.

"Cas?" Dean murmurs, want searing down his spine as Castiel meets his stare once more. His unnaturally blue eyes are abnormally dark, only a small halo of blue visible around the gaping void of his pupil.

"Y – yes, Dean?" Cas replies, adam's apple bobbing sharply, the movement catching Dean's focus. Cas' heart is beating out an unsteady dash against his chest and his skin is hypersensitive, every one of Dean's fingers is like a white-hot brand touching his chest.

A small smirk falls across Dean's lips as he tightens his fingers in Cas' tie, jerking Cas forward, close enough to feel Cas' soft gasp against his face. "You need to learn how to keep your fucking tie straight," Dean says roughly before he grips the loosened knot of Cas' tie and pulls Cas into a demanding kiss.

Cas pulls in a sharp breath through his nose in shock, overexcited nerves twitching across his body, jolting up his spine. Dean's tongue drags across the bow of Cas' lips, probing for an entrance. Cas is locked in place, shock overwhelming his body's insistence to give over to Dean.

Dean lets out a soft grunt against Cas' inaction, moving his other hand up to the soft curls at the nape of the angel's neck. The shift pulls Cas from his stupor, his eyes drifting close as his mouth parts with a hot gust of breath. With a hungry grin, Dean pulls Cas closer, his tongue sweeps its way into Castiel's mouth, across teeth and tongue. The heat between them is heavy now, alive with aching need. They can both feel it licking at their skin, alighting on nerves and crawling through their spines, urging them on.

Cas grabs at Dean's clothes, his fingers tangling in the fabric and pulling them closer. They're nearly in one another's laps at this point, absorbed in the slick, wet heat of each other's mouths. Though the details are hazy, Dean knows for certain that fake Cas' kisses were never as good as this – never as overwhelming or as blistering as these. Every touch feels like a gust of wind, feeding the wildfire that's set ablaze between them.

After what seems like endless minutes, Dean pulls himself away, panting slightly. " _Jesus_ , Cas. Do you know how fucking long -," Dean begins, rolling his tongue over his swollen lips. Cas lets out a low growl at the interruption, his eyes electric blue and burning with want, the intensity knocking the words from Dean's mouth.

Cas is unsure why Dean has stopped kissing him, but whatever reason can wait, he decides. Using Dean's daze to his advantage, Cas grips Dean's worn leather jacket and pulls the man into his lap, letting out a deep groan as he feels Dean's cock grind against his own through the fabric of their pants. Castiel rolls his hips upward once more, smiling as he watches the surprise abruptly drain from Dean's face, lust clouding his eyes as a rumbling moan tumbles from his lips.  
The heavy graze of fingertips sliding between the rough denim of his jeans and the burning skin of his hips pulls Dean back into focus. He shoves at his jacket and overshirt before pulling his undershirt off, leaving his hair mussed and sticking up everywhere. Cas is wriggling beneath him in an attempt to remove his trenchcoat but with Dean in his lap, is having some difficulty. The angel stills when he realizes Dean's gaze is on him, frowning up at the goofy grin spreading across Dean's face.

"This would go quicker if you would help, Dean." Cas gripes weakly, sitting up as best he can.

"Says the nerdy angel that could totally have just poofed them off," Dean snarks back with a sharp, hungry grin.  
Castiel frowns at him for a moment, shifting to help Dean pull his jacket and trenchcoat off before tossing them on the other bed. Dean begins to unbutton Cas' oxford while Cas moves his own attention to Dean's tented jeans. He can see the outline of Dean's cock straining against the zipper and Cas lets out a light chuckle when the pressure of his fingers cause the man's hands to stutter across his buttons with a curse.

Dean lets out a gust of breath, his fingers desperate and fumbling. His cock throbs in his pants, twitching when he feels the cool air of the room through his boxers. Finally, Dean gets Cas' shirt undone, pushing it off with a rough slide of his callused hands. Cas groans aloud, grinding up against Dean on top of him. Dean lets out a whine (that he'll definitely be embarrassed about later) and drops his mouth to Cas' neck, mouthing kisses against the scruff.  
Cas' bones are burning and every touch feels like a jolt of lightning through his gut. His cock is hard and leaking heavily against the fabric of his pants, trapped between Dean and himself. Dean's mouth slides over Castiel's jaw with a bite and Castiel is overwhelmed with the need to get Dean naked as quickly as possible. Fortunately, Castiel thinks vaguely, that can be taken care of.

Next thing Dean knows he's on his back, naked, with Castiel on top of him capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Dean can't keep a loud groan from escaping as Cas' cock presses against his, their precome leaving a sticky trail across his hipbone. "Fuck, Cas," Dean starts with a heavy breath, "I shoulda guessed you'd be a pushy one in bed."  
Cas responds with a low growl, his teeth biting at Dean's neck. Castiel forgoes a reply, choosing instead to wrap a hand around their leaking cocks and stroke roughly. The answering whine it pulls from Dean makes Castiel smirk as he moves to settle himself above Dean's cock.

"There's lube in the drawer, I think," Dean murmurs, his eye tracing over lightly tanned skin of the angel above him. He could nearly picture Cas' huge blue-black wings spread out behind him, filling the room with feathers.

Castiel fumbles with the bedside table drawer, grabbing the supplies and dumping them on the bed next to them. Dean watches as Cas slicks up his fingers, a choked groan escaping as he watches Cas push himself down onto his fingers. "Fuck, _Cas_ -"

Castiel's eyes snap back open and focus back in on Dean – who looks more wrecked than Castiel has ever seen him. Dean's hair is stuck up in every direction, his face is flushed, and his cock is rigid and hot against the curve of Castiel's ass. Dean stares up at Cas as though Castiel is the only important thing in the entire world. Cas' cock twitches under Dean's heavy gaze, dribbling precome against Dean's stomach.

Dean wraps his hand around Castiel's cock and swipes his thumb over the head. Cas makes an aborted thrust into Dean's fist, biting back a broken groan when the movement pushes him back down on his own fingers.

Cas releases a hard breath. " _Dean_ ," he grits out, biting at his lips, "I need-"

Dean releases Cas, who lets out a thready whine at the loss of contact. "Hold on, Cas, just gimmie-," Dean murmurs, pushing himself up so their chests brush together. Cas thrusts against Dean, trapping his cock between the hard expanse of their stomachs. " _Fuck_." Dean growls out, " _Christ_ , Cas. Are you ready?"

Castiel nods, grabbing the condom and shoving it into Dean's hand. Dean wastes no time, slipping it on quickly before slicking himself up with a bit more lube. Cas grips Dean's shoulders tighter and lets out a deep groan as Dean pushes in, the broad head of his cock pushing past muscle. Dean moans loudly as he feels Cas' ass twitch and tighten around him as he sinks fully into the angel.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean repeats, once he's caught his breath again. He wraps his arms around Cas and pulls him closer, resting his head against Cas' collarbone.

Cas breathes heavily, leaning into Dean's arms. He feels more full, more _whole,_ than he's felt in a long time – not since he pulled Dean from Hell. A soft kiss against Cas' throat pulls him back to the moment and he tilts his head back to allow Dean better access.

Dean presses more kisses against Cas' neck and shoulder, uncaring of the beard burn that's definitely gonna be all over his face. He licks into the hollow between Cas' shoulder and neck and bites lightly, increasing pressure when Cas grinds against him and lets out a small gasp.

“You like that?” Dean murmurs against the sweat-damp skin of Cas’ neck. Cas shivers as Dean’s breath ghosts over his skin; he feels overwhelmed with sensation, every touch sparks against his skin, spreading goose bumps.

Castiel grips Dean’s shoulders and begins to fuck himself onto Dean’s cock, shuddering as it brushes against something inside him.

Dean watches at first, his breath hitching with Cas’ movement, eyes blown wide. He moves to Castiel’s chest, licking across one of his nipples and sucking it into his mouth with a moan. Cas’ grip tightens and his hips stutter in their movement before beginning to move faster. Dean groans and thrusts up to meet Cas, heat building in his belly, but can’t get enough grip on the shitty motel bedspread to get any further.

“Come on, Cas, come on. This position will be better,” Dean mutters, pulling Cas to move underneath him. Dean can fuck into Castiel even deeper in their new position, pushing against Cas’ prostate every few thrusts. Cas is moaning near constantly while messily kissing at Dean’s throat and face. Dean can feel the orgasm quickly building at the base of his spine, coming on fast. He moves and grips Cas’ throbbing cock, jerking roughly. Cas growls as he feels his balls tighten up against his cock; his orgasm rushing through him like a fucking tsunami, leaving stripes of cum across Dean’s chest.

Dean’s thrusts stutter and his grip tightens as he feels Cas’ cum splatter against his chest. A sharp heat shoots down Dean’s spine and he comes, his cock twitching deep within Castiel, filling the angel with Dean's cum before his arms collapse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTERRRR!!! No beta. I hope you guys enjoy.

Dean awakes with a groan and a sharp headache snapping against his temples. Rubbing his eyes roughly, he pushes himself up and blearily looks around. The stark contrast of Castiel’s tan trenchcoat against the dark bedspread catches his eye and the past few hours slam back into the forefront of Dean’s mind.

Dean clambers away, slipping off the bed and landing heavily on the ground as he watches Cas’ eyes being to twitch open. The soft flutter of something falling to the floor causes Dean to pull his gaze from Castiel’s face, turning instead to the small piece of paper that had fallen with him off the bed. The paper is wrinkled and has Sam’s messy scrawling handwriting across it. Dean grabs it and scans through it quickly.

 _Dean – If you’re reading this that means that Cas has been able to fix whatever the fuck was wrong with you in the first place. Before you get all up on my ass about leaving the two of you alone you should know I’m sitting outside of your room and I’ll head out to get some food once I hear you two up and moving around (I’m sure you’re starving right now – and no, I won’t forget the pie.)_ Dean’s stomach gurgles loudly at that – he hadn’t yet noticed how fucking starving he was. _Anyway, I figured it was better for me to leave you and Cas alone after what you guys have just been through. Don’t worry, I already knew this was coming, but next time I’d rather not have to sit and listen to you two getting it on. Be back soon. – Sam_

Cas watched as Dean read over the note that Sam had to have left for them. Dean began to flush near the end, his face bright red when he looked back up at Castiel. They look at one another in silence for a few seconds before Dean pulls his gaze away, his blush receding.

“So. Uh. Sam says that once he hears us up and moving around again he’s gonna pick us up some food,” Dean starts, keeping his eyes cast downwards to avoid eye contact.

“That is probably best,” Cas replies, “When Sam summoned me to help you had lost a great deal of sweat. You must be famished.”

Dean snorts, looking back up towards Castiel, “Major understatement there, dude.”

Cas can’t stop the small smile that curls over his lips as he replies, “I am glad you are back to your normal self, Dean.”

“Thanks, man. I’d be SOL if it weren’t for you, though,” Dean replies, the flush creeping back up his cheeks as he glances away.

“I’m sure Sam would have been able to figure out something. He is very intelligent. I merely sped up the process.”

“If you call that “speeding up the process”,” Dean mutters under his breath as Cas gives him an odd look. “Anyway, thanks,” Dean says, speaking louder, “I know you, uh, don’t, um…”

“Do a little “cloud seeding”?” Castiel fills in, more amused sounding than his normal deadpan remarks.

Dean lets out a harsh laugh, “Yeah, man. That.”

“It was… not a problem, Dean,” Castiel replies and glances away from Dean, very obviously avoiding eye contact, “Do not worry yourself about it.”

Dean glances over at Castiel and thinks back on the… dream? Thoughts? Vision? that he and Cas had escaped from. He remembers Cas’ flushed body and trembling legs. He remembers the way Castiel’s pupils had widened as he watched Dean strip of his shirt, the hungry gasps that had fallen from Cas’ lips as Dean pushed inside him the first time. When Dean brings his focus back to Castiel the angel is trying not to fidget, his fingers pulling at the silk of his tie.

It’s too much for Dean, too overwhelming, especially with last night seared into his mind. Dean picks himself up off of the floor, startling Cas and drawing his attention. Cas frowns in confusion once he sees the hungry smirk stretched across Dean’s lips. “Dean, what - ?” Cas begins before the hunter cuts him off.

“Cas,” Dean starts as he leans into Castiel’s space, brushing his fingers against the ones Cas has pressed against his tie, “ Have I ever told you how completely  _obnoxious_ your tie is?”

Castiel’s eyes widen and he begins to laugh, his lips nearly brushing Dean’s. Dean closes the distance, pressing a chaste kiss to the angel’s smiling lips. Cas smirks up at Dean, his eyes sparkling and clear, and pulls Dean in for another kiss.

About an hour later, Sam stands in front of the door of the hotel, glaring disdainfully at the sock hanging from the doorknob. _I should have known better than to leave them alone for too long_ , Sam thinks exasperatedly. With a heavy sigh, Sam sits down outside the door and starts pulling out his dinner.


End file.
